


Maybe I Don't Hate You

by Providentia67



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2019-08-03 09:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16323320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Providentia67/pseuds/Providentia67
Summary: He never asked to be a protector; she never asked to be leashed to a Sith for protection.  They are each quite certain that they hate each other; except maybe when they don't.An anthology of small moments in the relationship of Neutral Sith Warrior Eden Maledict and his (somewhat) reluctant companion Vette.  Not in chronological order.





	1. Tatooine - Pest Control

“If I die, I’m going to haunt you!”  Vette shrieked as one of the weird artifact drone thingies made a swipe at her, and she just managed to duck away before it was blasted apart by one of the Sons of Palawa.  “Hey thank—oh that’s gross.”  She would have thanked the man, but a swarm of three more infected natives had gotten hold of him, and he was now a drooling mess like the rest.  Vette made sure to give him a quick shot to the head first before putting down the rest.

Why were they even in this mess?  She thought they were supposed to be looking for some Jedi Master or something, not digging around in the sand!  But no, the stupid Sith she was stuck with just had to get sidetracked by every Imp with a sob story and take them WAY out of their way to help.  She would almost call the predilection Jedi-like, if their side jobs didn’t end with as many dead bodies as they always seemed to.

An angry roar and the swift, humming shriek of a lightsaber drew Vette’s attention to where that very Sith was starting to get a bit farther away than she would have liked.  Damn him, the Pureblood liked to go jumping halfway across caves to make swift kills while mere Force-blinds like Vette had to go chasing after him on foot.  “Hey, wait up!”

One of the drones got hold of one of the shoulder plates of the Sith’s armor, and Vette doubled her pace to take a shot.  It only clipped the guy, but drew the Sith’s attention enough that he spun and impaled the thing himself. 

He was in fighting form today, she noted.  Eden Maledict was your textbook definition of virile, Sithy Pureblood upstart.  Tall and lean, with burning pale gold eyes and a lip that tended to curl up in a snarl when he was in a fight that got his blood pumping.  His hair, which was a bit long to one side and a shade or two darker red than his skin blew to the side as he kicked the dead drone off his weapon and he looked up to meet her unfortunate stare.

_Look away.  They only get more shock-happy when you look them in the eye._

But her collar, at least, was gone, and she hoped that Lord Maledict was too busy to really notice what she was doing.  The look lasted longer than she thought either of them would have liked, but it ended with a clear nod from him—was that a thank you!?—before he looked behind her at the floundering Sons of Palawa.

Happy for the distraction, Vette turned as well.  They really weren’t doing too well.  And after her Sith had been so gracious as to not slaughter them all too…what a shame.

“Void take them, Vette!” 

Vette jumped and turned back to her lord.  “Uh, yeah?”

“Tell the idiots if they’re just going to get themselves killed to fall back!  I don’t need them feeding these freaks more bodies!”  The Sith wasn’t even facing her anymore, but was once again leaping from drone to drone, cutting them down with enraged screams that meant he was starting to get angry and frustrated. 

“Got it boss!”  She couldn’t help but agree with him.  As much game as these sand warrior guys liked to talk up, they were getting slaughtered.  Throwing themselves into three on one match ups with drones instead of taking pot shots from a clear spot like a smart person.

“You heard the man!  Pack it up and get outta here!” 

She covered the poor idiots’ retreat, drawing the attention of some of the drones closest to the exit until the last of them made it through the durasteel door separating the main chamber of the settlement from the bulk of the fighting.

Two more went down under her blaster fire before she started noticing that maybe this time it was her who had taken on a bit too much.  Six, no seven mindless bodies were stumbling in her direction and closing fast.

“Dammit.”  Vette backed up into the shallow pool that covered most of the cavern and took cover behind a medium-sized stalagmite as the drones continued to advance.  Behind her, her lekku twitched.  The air stirred and Vette only just managed to duck under the strike of another infected Palawan’s polearm that had snuck up behind her.  “Um, little help!”  The Palawan stabbed down at her and Vette shrieked and rolled away into the legs of another advancing drone.

 _You’re not dying here, Vette._ With her offhand blaster, Vette took the head off the drone she had rolled into and tried to get to her feet, but the wild swing of the infected man behind her glanced the side of one of her lekku and sent her back to the ground with a cry of pain.

The drones closed in on her and as she forced her eyes open against the pain all she could see were the boots of the infected Palawans as they surrounded her.  She wanted to cry out of frustration and anger.  She didn’t want to die here; alone and forgotten, even by the stupid son of a Hutt she’d been stuck with.

Not wanting to see the blow coming, Vette curled on her side and shut her eyes tight, waiting for the blow to come.  She waited, and waited.

“Are you hurt?”

When no pain came, and instead she heard the almost smug voice of her Sith, Vette peeked one eye open, then the next, to see Lord Maledict standing over her, lightsaber buzzing and one hand held open for her while he kept scanning for what remained of the encroaching drones.  Bodies were littered about her and the one that had nearly sliced off her lekku was a nice smoking husk a short ways off.

Had… had he saved her?

“Vette, if you’re not dead get up.”  The snappish tone broke through her daze and Vette took the hand offered to her.  He gripped her hard, bony fingers wrapped securely around her wrist and clawed fingertips pressing just hard enough into her skin to not draw blood.  She expected him to let go as soon as she had here feet under her, but instead found herself being tugged to the Sith’s back and held there.

“Uh, you can let go now.”  She said that, but found herself twisting her hand in his grip and wrapping her fingers around his wrist too.  For stability…yeah.

“Silence.” 

Jerk.  “Whatever.”  She wasn’t sure, but Vette thought she saw a smirk growing on his lips from what she could see around the bone spurs of his cheek.

The drones were getting closer, and while Vette still had one blaster in hand and Lord Maledict definitely had his lightsaber, she was beginning to wonder how he was going to fight while holding onto her like that.  She didn’t exactly relish the idea of being dragged around like a rag doll when he started flying through the air.

“Um…you see those guys coming, right?”

A sharp glare over his shoulder, then the Sith’s face drained of all emotion and he closed his eyes in concentration.  A moment later something shifted in the air, and the Sith deactivated and clipped his lightsaber before lifting a hand up, fingers ever so slightly curved towards himself.

All the drones stopped.  Eden’s hand started to waver, and Vette wondered if the drones were about to break free when the Sith’s eyes snapped open and he jerked his wrist ninety degrees.  Twenty simultaneous cracks sounded as each drone’s neck snapped and they all fell dead to the ground.

Vette’s mouth was open in a breathless gasp of awe and horror.  “Oh stars.”

Eden dropped her hand.

“We’re done here.”

He turned on his heel and gave her an appraising look from head to toe, even going so far as to lean to one side and eye the raw wound on her lekku.  He lifted one hand, and for a minute Vette worried he was going to try and touch, but he must have remembered that her lekku were sensitive and simply tugged at her shoulder until she turned her back to him.  “Is it painful, or can you continue?  I’m sure Quinn wouldn’t mind a chance to prove himself for the duration of the mission.”

“Um,” Vette gnawed on her lower lip and considered.  As much as she would love to get off of the giant dust ball that was Tatooine, she knew their mission wasn’t done.  Not by a long shot.  And for some reason, she didn’t like the idea of her Sith going to face a Jedi Master with a stiffy Imp at his side instead of her.

She glanced over her shoulder and met the pale gold of Eden’s eyes.  Remembering how they had gone bright and sickly yellow for just a moment on Balmorra when the Jedi investigator had said she’d succeeded in delivering the information Eden had been sent to bury.

Something in her told Vette that the only way she survived whatever was to come depended on making sure her Sith steered clear of those eyes.  So, she stayed.

“Nah, I’m fine.  Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

A nod, and Lord Maledict let his hand drop, stepping forward to lead the way out of the Palawan settlement.  And if at some point during their trek back to Anchorhead a medpac was surreptitiously slipped into her back pocket…well, she wasn’t going to mention it.


	2. White Nova - In Another Lifetime

“Darth Malgus, we are being contacted by the _White Nova._ It’s Moff Phennir.”

Malgus nodded to the Ensign seated at the communications console and turned himself to stand directly before his ship’s holoterminal.  A slight stirring of anticipation tightened the muscles of his shoulders as he awaited the azure flicker that would signal an open frequency.  After meeting Darth Baras’ apprentice only briefly, he felt a certain eagerness to take measure of the young Sith now that he would have more time to observe him.  Young and powerful, Lord Maledict would make a fine addition to the ranks of the New Empire once it was time to strike.  But first, the Foundry.

As Moff Phennir and the crew of the _White Nova_ came into holographic view before him, Malgus glossed over the Imperials and instead focused his attention to the Sith staring up at him, arms crossed and face set in an unimpressed frown.  He recognized the countenance of the red-skinned Pureblood he’d heard rumors of since the _Black Talon_ , and it seemed the young Sith had continued to grow in power, radiating his Force presence so far that Malgus could feel it idle even through the holocall.  Who he did not recognize, and who he concluded with some consternation must have been left out of those reports, was the blue-skinned Twi’lek standing to the right and back of him.

 _Eleena._   Malgus felt something cold and dead inside him turn over, but he pushed the feeling aside and smothered it under his will as he squared himself to speak.

The briefing commenced with the smooth efficiency characteristic of Imperial practice, and Malgus found himself torn on his assessment of the Sith warrior before him.  Lord Maledict was intelligent, confident, and clearly open-minded enough to realize the value of change, but at the same time, Malgus found himself disappointed by the Sith’s lack of cautionary discretion.

The Sith was challenging, and blatantly disrespectful to those he did not feel had earned his loyalty.  A noble sentiment, one no doubt spurned by the prideful disposition Malgus had observed in most Pureblooded Sith.  But it was also something that would set him at odds with most of his peers, not to mention a Darth.  No doubt, Darth Baras was already plotting this one’s death.

And then there was the Twi’lek.

“Lord Maledict, a word before you depart.”

The Pureblood stopped midstep and turned back to the holoterminal before he disappeared from Malgus’ view, the Twi’lek behind him jumping back into position by his side without much thought.  Maledict crossed his arms and waited.

Malgus frowned beneath his breathing apparatus.  “In private.”

After a beat of silence Lord Maledict dipped his head in the barest interpretation of a bow.  “Very well.  Phennir, leave us.”  Moff Phennir was not so coy with his prostrations and gave Malgus a full, ninety degree bow before doing the same for Lord Maledict and ushering himself and his men from the room as swift as he could while maintaining order.  Malgus waited a moment for Lord Maledict to dismiss his slave as well. 

He waited, and waited.

“Hey are you guys doing that Sithy mind-speak thing?  Cause if you are, I gotta tell you, it’s kind of rude to us Force-blinds,” said the Twi’lek, hands set on her hips as she rebuked her master.

Malgus was struck by the sheer audacity of the female, and waited for the swift hand of punishment Lord Maledict would surely inflict.  But instead, the brazen comment garnered no visible reaction.  Quite the opposite in fact, when the Pureblood finally did speak, he seemed almost amused.

“Nothing of the sort, Vette, it seems Darth Malgus appreciates dramatic pauses.”  Then to Malgus, “I do not.”

“Sure buddy,” the Twi’lek actually patted her hand against the back of the Sith’s shoulder.  “You just don’t like it when you’re not the one doing it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The Twi’lek seemed to roll her eyes with her entire body.  “ _Right_ , that’s why you stared at me for over five minutes before thanking me for opening that tomb for you on Korriban.”

“It was not that long.”

“Uh, yeah boss, it was.”

There was indeed, over a minute of silence before the Sith responded.  “Not as I remember it.” 

Malgus got the distinct impression he was being ignored or perhaps even forgotten, even as the Sith’s visual attention never seemed to deviate from the image projected on the holoterminal.

“Lord Maledict.”  The pair fell still as Malgus spoke.  “Time is of the essence.”  The Darth shifted his eyes from the Sith, to his Twi’lek, and back again.  If the warrior did not understand what was meant by it, then Lord Maledict was even more undiscerning than he was irreverent.

Even still, as clear as his message was, Maledict said nothing for some time.  Stranger even, was the Twi’lek’s reaction.  From the quick glances between her lord and himself, she also perceived what Malgus wanted, but after only a moment, she seemed to relax completely.  She stood patient and unconcerned, trusting completely in Lord Maledict to do what was necessary, even if only Malgus could perceive it that way.

Or perhaps she did not realize that even now Malgus could easily reach out in the Force and crush her windpipe before she even had time to scream.  Intrigued, Malgus sent out a small wave of power, probing the Force for any connection between the two that would explain such a display of trust. 

Something of his earlier thought must have slipped through though, because a fierce and burning Force presence slapped Malgus’ influence away before it came anywhere near the Twi’lek. 

Lord Maledict’s stance shifted.

“Vette,” he said.

“Yeah?” her voice was unconcerned, completely unaware of the clear challenge that had just been issued in her presence.

“Return to the ship, and tell Jaesa to meet me on the bridge of the _White Nova_ in an hour.”

“Sure thing.”  She spared Lord Maledict only one more glance, before hurrying away, not even daring to look in Malgus’ direction.  The Darth was glad of it.  The sooner she and all thoughts she spurned of Eleena disappeared, the sooner he could get to the bottom of this situation and what it mean for Lord Maledict’s future in his New Empire.

A cumbersome Force presence stumbled against him.  Throwing itself against his mind and probing for intent.  Malgus could have laughed, by the expression on the young apprentice’s face, Lord Maledict had no idea how obvious his attempts were.

“A warning before you proceed, Lord Maledict.”  Malgus kept his mental shields firm, but did not mention the disrespectful intrusion into his mind even as the young Sith finally ceased his attempts and focused solely on Malgus himself.

“Speak.” 

“The Sith way is through passion,” said Malgus.  “But I offer you this wisdom, passion can be a double-edged sword.”

Lord Maledict’s expression did not flicker, but Malgus sensed the Sith’s presence in the Force recoil from its offensive probing and shift to stark defense almost in an instant.  Malgus needed no more to have his suspicions confirmed.

“You sound like a Jedi,” Maledict spat with cold venom.  Malgus did not let it phase him.

“Be that as it may, guard your heart.  I feel the passion within you granting you strength,” he said.  He recognized the burning need to possess and protect at the core of the young Sith as well as he recognized the similarly shaped hole in himself.  “But if you are to reach your full potential, Lord Maledict, you must have the wisdom to discern which of those passions have the potential to strike back at you.”  Malgus waved his hand through the air in clear mimicry of a swinging blade.

“And cut them out.”

The Dark Side roiled about the Sith warrior, coming off of Lord Maledict in almost visible waves.  “Is that all?”

So, he would not listen.  Malgus sighed, the sound disguised by the distortion of his vocoder.  “Yes.  You may go.”

Lord Maledict strode from the room without another word.  Malgus shut down the holoterminal aboard his starship and sighed.  Such a pity.  In another life, another time, perhaps he might have swept the young Lord under his own apprenticeship, guided him away from such folly before it had the chance to take root.  But by now it was in all likelihood too late.  Maledict would never find the will to break his chains the way Malgus had, the fool.  And Malgus did not suffer fools.


	3. Korriban - Option Two

Vette prided herself on her shot.  Put a blaster in her hand and Force-sensitive or not she would hit her target even with her eyes closed; and whether that shot would leave a fatal wound or not was at her discretion.  It was that very aim that had saved her from a number of slave masters who were two times as cruel as any sapient being had any right to be, but were luckily as equally stupid when it came to locking their blasters away. 

The blaster in her hand in that moment was by no means as well-made as some of the ones hoarded by the men who had bought and sold her -it had simply been plucked from the desk of the Korriban Academy Jailor- but she had gotten more than a couple practice shots in on the local k’lor’slugs.  It would do.

“I’ll give you one shot.”

The Sith who Vette had thought was sleeping against the wall of the tomb spoke quietly, but his voice echoed with dark intent across the cracked stone walls.

Vette’s breath caught in her lungs as her grip wavered just a little.  But a moment later her arm steadied and the blaster was once again aimed at the Sith Acolyte’s head.  Burnished gold eyes stared up at her and she glared back.

The Twi’lek seethed.  “What, you think I’ll miss?”

The Pureblood Sith smirked, the gold adornment hugging the edges of his mouth pulling the corner of his lips back down even as they twisted upwards.  His hands didn’t move for the warblade resting at his side or the shock collar remote in his pocket.

“No, but that hardly matters.  You couldn’t kill me either way.” 

Vette fired a shot and blasted a hole through the head of a meandering shyrack.

“You sure about that, tough guy?”

One of the Sith’s eyebrow stalks arched upwards and his eyes narrowed.  “Let me make myself clear.”  He lifted himself to his feet.  The Sith towered over her but kept his back to the tomb wall, allowing Vette to stand her ground and simply shift her arm up to keep aim on his head.

“On the off chance you manage to kill me,” he said.  “I give it a day, perhaps less before either the Academy Overseers or another acolyte finds you and makes you suffer before you die.  That is, if they don’t use your shock collar and take you for themselves.”

The fearful tingle that went down Vette’s spine at the thought made her body shake with rage. 

If he noticed, Maledict ignored the reaction.  “The more likely scenario,” he instead went on.  “Is that I’ll stop you, one way or another.  And I will drag you by the lekku if I have to, into the tomb to get my lightsaber which I will then proceed to cut you apart with.”

The sick edge of enjoyment that undercut the Sith’s voice made Vette want to empty her stomach, and her body began to shake even harder.  She didn’t doubt for a second that he meant every word.  As much as a reputation for lying and manipulation as the Sith as a whole had, through the years Vette had learned that there was a certain breed of them that took pleasure in stating cold, hard truth.

The strongest Sith, she had deduced, didn’t need to exaggerate their own power when they really were just that brutal.

“You think you scare me?”  Her voice was shaky, a complete and utter façade, but she couldn’t back down now.

Maledict shrugged.  “Just stating your options.”

Vette picked her chin up and resisted the urge to spit in the Sith’s face.  “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“Now, now.”  To her complete and utter befuddlement, Maledict raised both his hands. “I wasn’t done.”

Vette’s eyes narrowed.  “What?”

“That was just option one, there is still option two.”

The tomb around them was silent.  The other acolytes must have all given up for the night or finally bitten the dust.  Even the beasts hoarding the Sith’s artifacts had gone quiet.

As if in an instinctual need to respect the sudden silence, her voice when she spoke was a whisper.  “Option… option two?”

Maledict lowered his arms and squared his shoulders before speaking.  “Option two is you put that ridiculous blaster down, I forget this ever happened, and we proceed towards the hidden tomb of Naga Sadow.  I will not punish you for this short-sighted little rebellion and you will continue to remain under my protection for however long you remain with me.”

“You-you can’t be serious.”  Vette’s other slave masters had killed for less than minor disrespect, not even touching the fact that she was outright threatening the Pureblood Sith with a blaster.

Maledict’s eyes narrowed.  He looked the most affronted she’d seen during the entire encounter.  “I don’t lie.”

No, he didn’t did he.  Vette’s arm felt heavy all of a sudden.  How was it, that in the presence of outright cruelty she could spit in its face and spare a quip just for fun, but when offered absolution she crumbled?  Could it all be a trick?  A mind game the Sith was playing on her, had been weaving since he’d first spoken?

She didn’t know anymore.

Vette rallied the shattered remains of her rebel spirit, “I didn’t ask for this.” 

Maledict nodded, almost like he understood.  “Neither did I.”

Her eyes drifted from the Sith to the blaster in her hand.  He was probably distracted trying to read the look on her face.  If she fired now, she might even manage to kill him.

“Vette.”

Hearing her name come out of his mouth, in his voice, shocked her into really looking at him for the first time in a while.  It was somewhat of a shock to see the clear air of disappointment in the way he looked at her.  As if he’d expected more.  She hadn’t even realized until that moment that he remembered her name.  “You may not believe me, but my goal is not to torment you.”

That sparked something in her.  “Oh yeah?” She grit her teeth and jerked her free thumb in the direction of the heavy slave collar gripping the back of her neck.

If he cared about her accusatory tone one way or another or that she’d even spoken he didn’t show it.  He simply continued, “I have a job to do which my life depends on.  I could care less about owning or torturing slaves, I find the very practice bizarre and unnecessary.”

Vette gaped.  Bizarre and unnecessary?  Well that was a whole other can of mynock guts Vette wasn’t ready or willing to open at the moment.

“But if I am going to appease Baras I need your help.  So, like it or not we are tied together for the time being.  I don’t know about you, but I would prefer to make this partnership as painless as possible for the both of us.  A willing companion is far more useful than any slave."

As hard as she tried to tell herself to ignore what the Sith was saying and just shoot him, her arms refused to listen.  The same could not be said for her mouth. 

“I hate you.”  She wasn't sure if the words were said more out of sincerity or spite.  Either way-

“I know.  I just don’t care.”

Her blaster remained poised a brief moment longer before clattering to the ground.  Vette’s arm fell limp to her side and she couldn’t find the will to look the Sith in the eyes.

“Okay.”  The word came out in an exhale.  As quiet a surrender as she could manage.

Vette barely caught the movement of the tendrils on Maledict’s chin when he nodded his approval.  “A wise choice.” 

He plucked his warblade from the ground and slung it onto his back before stepping away from the wall and past where Vette still stood frozen.  She half-hoped he would just abandon her there and leave her to wallow in her own misery, but life had never been that kind.

An invisible hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed.  Vette gasped and fell to her knees, her hands clawing at nothing to try and allow air through.  A deep sting of betrayal ran through her and Vette forced herself to turn and saw Maledict standing with his back to her, his right arm held up with fingers curled in a choking gesture.

“Oh, and just to be clear,” his hands relaxed and blessed oxygen flooded Vette’s lungs.  The Sith turned so that one sundering orange eye glared in her direction.  “If you ever threaten me again, believe me when I say you won’t get a second chance to reconsider your poor decisions.”

He gave her time to regain her composure, and Vette tried very hard not to notice as he turned away when she started to cry.  The frustrated tears burned down her cheeks and it ended up taking way longer than either of them probably intended before she managed to wipe her face and get to her feet. 

She had never felt so defeated.

“Come,” her Sith said, finally.  “I doubt either of us is going to get much sleep tonight.  We might as well keep moving.”

Vette fell into step behind the Sith like she was born to be there and hated herself all the more for it.  “Yeah, whatever.” 


	4. Alderaan - The Privilege of Station

Quinn was not yet sure what to make of his new lord.  

Biologically speaking Eden Maledict was a model of Pureblood Sith strength and superiority.  All medical records that he had been granted access to since taking up tenure on the _Fury_  -and subsequent physical exams Malavai had insisted upon conducting for the sake of creating an efficient training and meal regimen for the small crew- indicated peak fitness.  And Lord Maledict’s demeanor as he’d spoken and handled Quinn’s personnel on Balmorra spoke of a sharp mind lacking the beginnings of madness that were unfortunately common in Sith ranks.  And if Quinn had anything to do about it he would strive to hold that inevitability at bay for as long as possible.

But his lord did have a few… _eccentricities_.

It was to be expected of course, no Imperial could work in close quarters with a true Sith without having to adapt to at least one or two strange habits necessitated by their culture.  With Baras it had been the need to keep himself in full armor at all times, despite the sheer impracticality of the bulk and lack of visibility provided by his expressionless mask. And thankfully, Lord Maledict’s faults had nothing to do with strange and self-hampering clothing.  No, in truth the Sith’s only oddities were more a matter of his preferences, than anything else. Preference regarding a particular-

A rapid succession of undignified stomps up the _Fury_ ’s docking ramp broke his train of thought and alerted Quinn to a certain Twi’lek’s arrival before anything else, though it was swiftly followed by her loud exclamation.

“I can’t _believe_ you!”

The ship’s bay doors slid open with a soft hiss and Lord Maledict rounded the corner to the ship’s common area with quiet steps.  The crease in the Pureblood’s forehead spoke of a not insignificant amount of irritation so Quinn was careful not to make his presence intrusive as he stood and bowed.

“My lord,” he greeted the younger man.

A grunt and a dismissive wave was all he got in return before the Sith passed him by and disappeared into his quarters.  The doors to his private room shutting a bare microsecond after he’d passed the threshold. Given that the ship was designed to shut privacy doors a full 1.36 seconds after being crossed, the Force must have been involved and Quinn wondered with silent bewilderment at how the next person to enter the common area was still breathing.

“Don’t just walk away from me, you jerk!”  The young Twi’lek with blue skin, and an unpleasant personality if Quinn were any judge, ignored him completely, in favor of striding up to their lord’s quarters and banging on his door.  Credit to Lord Maledict’s patience, she was not asphyxiated or thrown across the room, but ignored. “Gah,” she crossed her arms and slid down sit cross-legged on the floor before the door.

Malavai blinked.  “Um, excuse me.” He was still unsure of how to address the girl.  She was Lord Maledict’s slave by Imperial law, Quinn had seen that the appropriate documents were recorded in triplicate and saved on both his personal datapad as well as the ship’s computers within hours of his arrival on board, but he’d felt the cold shiver of death on his spine after making an offhand remark regarding such in the Sith’s presence.

“If I might ask, why have you and Lord Maledict returned to the ship?”  Polite indifference, he’d decided was the safest stance to take. “I was under the impression that our mission on Alderaan was of a time-sensitive nature.”

The Twi’lek, he was yet to commit her name to memory, sniffed and glared into some middle distance.  “Who cares. I’m not setting another foot out there.”

For the Empire’s sake, Quinn took a deep breath and let it out in a slow exhale.  “Did something happen?”

The Twi’lek girl -Vette, right that was her name- drew her legs up to her chest and buried her head against her knees.  For a horrified moment Malavai feared she was about to cry. “He used a collar,” she said, voice muffled.

“Forgive me, he used what?”

“I said he used a slave collar!”  She threw the words at him like blaster bolts and her eyes, when she lifted her head, were red-rimmed.  “He tortured a man with-with one of those _things_ just to make a point!”

Ah, so it was about the report he’d received of a rebellious Alderaanian noble being brought to heel.  Quinn brought up his datapad and opened the relevant document. Lord Jorad Thul had sent a message praising Lord Maledict for his instruction on reigning in his unruly lords and for the honor with which he’d conducted himself in the siege tunnels below the Thul palace.  With the addition of Vette’s mention of the slave collar, Malavai believed he could piece together what was causing the girl’s distress.

With a weary sigh Quinn lowered his datapad and settled down on the curved couch near the ship’s holoterminal.  To his relief, Vette did not move from the ground to join him. “You know,” he ventured, somewhat hesitant. “Our lord’s behavior must have hardly come as a surprise.  Slavery and corporal punishment are staples of the Empire.”

He should have expected that would mean little to her, but still the venomous look he was sent was a bit over dramatic if you asked him.  “You weren’t there, you didn’t see him. The way he just kept shocking that man, he didn’t even _blink._ ”

Well he could hardly afford to display a weak stomach, Quinn thought but decided not to repeat aloud.  

“He didn’t have to be so cruel,” she said, voice taking on a slight tremble.  “That noble was no threat, so what if he talked back? Eden could have just ignored him for all the difference it would make.”

Quinn wanted to explain to the girl the necessity of crafting an unbending image for the Empire’s fledgling presence on Alderaan.  If this Jorad Thul was even half as soft as his Imperial file suggested, it would take displays of extreme cruelty followed by martial superiority to put him on a path to planetary leadership.  It might just be that when the Empire delivered the Alderaanian throne to House Thul the example made of this rebellious nobleman would be enough that it would not become necessary to do the same to those remaining.  He wanted to say this, but he doubted Vette was in any mood to listen so, he stayed quiet.

“... I thought- I thought after Tatooine,” Vette suddenly looked very tired.  “I thought maybe he was different.” Her eyes slid shut and she once again hid her face behind the shield of her legs.

Quinn calculated, using what he knew of Lord Maledict’s training methods with the girl and Vette’s own brash tendencies, the likelihood of the Twi’lek making an escape attempt as a result of this incident and contemplated the idea of preemptively confining the girl to one of the escape pods in place of a formal brig.  But seeing as the possible repercussions of arousing his lord’s anger in response far outweighed any perceivable benefit, he threw out the idea almost immediately.

Thankfully for the sake of Malavai’s stress levels, any need for him to take action was quelled the instant the doors to Lord Maledict’s quarters opened up again.  The Pureblood took one step and halted, looking down when he noticed that Vette was still seated near his feet.

“Vette,” he called to her, voice level and lacking the rage or disgust he would have expected from a Sith like Baras, or any other Sith for that matter.  

She did not respond, or even twitch, and Quinn started to wonder if he was going to have to clean Twi’lek blood from the ship’s floor.

“ _Vette_ ,” he said again, this time with an edge of dogged frustration.  “Get up.”

This time she did as she was told, though the concession was undercut by her muttered, “shut up.”

“I don’t expect you to understand my actions or agree with them.”  Lord Maledict kept his eyes trained on the back of the girl’s head, though Vette was stubbornly keeping her back to him and refusing to meet his eyes.  “But in the future you will reserve your disapproval for the security of this ship, not an Imperial controlled spaceport.”

Oh stars above, Quinn wanted to weep, had she verbally rebuked him in public?  In front of Moff Sarek? Malavai was beginning to feel faint.

One of the hands Vette had crossed against her chest inched upwards to rub at her bare neck.  “I thought you didn’t believe in slavery.”

Quinn blanched, receiving a sharp-eyed glare from Lord Maledict, and quickly schooled his expression.  Vette didn’t take notice of the quick exchange, but finally did turn to face her master. “I am Sith,” he said matter-of-fact.  “And that comes with certain expectations. You know this.” If that was meant to comfort the Twi’lek, Quinn had to admit it was a dismal failure.  From his angle Malavai couldn’t quite see her expression and could only just hear her whispered words.

“Sure I do, and I don’t know why, but I thought… I thought you were different.  Guess I should have known I was wrong.” Her hand dropped and she hugged herself tight through the layers of Corellian-class armor she’d been outfitted with.  “Every time I think there’s a person under all that Sith, I get a nice sharp reminder.”

For a moment Quinn thought he saw the Pureblood flinch, but shook the thought away.  Impossible, it must have been a trick of the ship’s dim, night cycle lighting.

“Vette, you will remain on the ship for the remainder of the mission.  Quinn,” gold eyes snapped to Malavai.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Gather whatever equipment you require.  You will be accompanying me to visit our dear Duke Kendoh.”

Lord Maledict didn’t wait for Quinn’s quick bow and mumbled, “of course, my lord,” before storming away, brushing past both Twi’lek and Imperial alike as he left the common area.  Both remaining occupants could hear as his hurried steps made their way down the docking ramp and disappeared as he completely left the ship.

That left Quinn alone with the Twi’lek, who was now openly weeping as if Quinn wasn’t standing right there.  He got the distinct impression that at some point during the confrontation she’d forgotten, and didn’t feel quite compelled to remind her.  Instead, he left the room with the quietest steps he could manage and made for what passed for the ship’s armory, selecting a blaster that suited his needs and hurrying after his lord.  

Lord Maledict was waiting for him just off the _Fury_ ’s wing, arms crossed and a low rage burning potent enough for even Quinn to feel resonating from his every pore.  Malavai swallowed and approached. “My lord, I am ready to depart at your earliest convenience.”

Once again, all he got in acknowledgement was a grunt and Lord Maledict striding on ahead without bothering to check if he was being followed.  Which of course, he was.

They left the spaceport without speaking a word between them.  But that changed the minute they tasted clean Alderaanian air. “Quinn,” the Sith’s clipped tone almost caused him to stumble.

“Y-yes, my lord?”

The Pureblood’s steps didn’t falter.  “I presume you’ve read all reports relating to my business with Moff Sarek and Jorad Thul?”

“Of course, Lord Maledict.”  He’d finished skimming the documents while waiting for his travel credentials to be verified at the spaceport registration desk.

“Do you believe equal or greater results could have been achieved without making an example of the rebel nobles?”

The immediate response to come to Malavai’s lips was ‘no’, but after taking in the tension-filled line of the Sith’s shoulders, he thought better of giving an automatic response and took the time to consider.  Given the length of time Alderaan had been at war with itself, what he knew of traditional Alderaanian customs regarding treason and warfare from his academy days, and everything he’d read about Jorad Thul in the last hour or so… he chose his words carefully.

“My lord, I believe that the same results of the day could have been achieved without the active subjugation of the local rebelling nobles.  However, without your demonstration of power, I doubt these soft Alderaanian’s would have understood what it means to be an ally of the Empire.  You’ve shown them what it takes to win a war, not just fight it. And it’s not always as clean as one might prefer.”

“I see.”

It was not the glowing commendation for his assessment that Quinn might have hoped for, but he’d take it.  Some of the stiffness had dropped from Lord Maledict’s shoulders and, feeling bold, Malavai decided to push his luck just a little.

“Beg your pardon my lord, but if I might ask a question?”

The Pureblood chuckled with dark amusement.  “You already have, no sense in stopping now.”

“About the Twi’lek- Vette,” he corrected at the sudden ghosting of invisible fingers against his throat.  “If I might be so bold, why do you insist on keeping her? And on such a long leash?” He was probably pushing things, but dammit Quinn wanted answers.  “She is insubordinate, rude, bordering treasonous on any given hour, and hardly gives you the respect due to a Pureblood Sith of your station. Surely whatever value as mechanic or tomb raider she might hold cannot be enough to justify allowances of that magnitude!”

Maledict came to a halt so suddenly that Quinn almost collided with the Sith’s back.  He tried to remember if he’d included his third cousin -the only member of his family he could actually stand- in his Imperial-sanctioned will.  That said, he was surprised to find he did not have a lightsaber through his gut.

“She has value,” was all Lord Maledict said before picking his pace back up again.  “And as a Pureblood Sith of my station, that is all you need know about the matter.”

That was an order to drop the topic if Quinn had ever heard one.  Malavai snapped his mouth shut and followed after his lord. So, he was fond of the girl for reasons Quinn doubted he’d ever come to comprehend.  That was fine. At the very least she’d never tried to assassinate Lord Maledict or openly sabotaged any of their missions thus far. And even he would have to grudgingly admit her conduct during their time on Tatooine was more than adequate given the reports he’d read.  If the worst he had to tolerate from her was a weak constitution when it came to the Imperial caste system, he supposed he could manage.

And as for Lord Maledict, if his Sith eccentricities only had to do with his strange partiality for the Twi’lek and her plight, Quinn supposed he should count himself lucky.  It was Sith privilege to do as they pleased despite Imperial code of conduct and he could do much worse.

He could be stuck with a Sith who had an affection for large Force-devouring monsters instead of mildly irritating Twi’lek slaves, for one.  Though Talos did have a poor habit of exaggerating so maybe he was overinflating the matter. Still, one did wonder. Especially when a pack of Rylothian sweets ended up sitting outside of the engine room once all business on Alderaan was completed and the _Fury_ was safely away in hyperspace.  

If the sticky fingers Vette tracked all over his holoterminal the next day were any indication, Quinn assumed the apology was accepted.


	5. Nar Shaddaa - The Jedi

Vette could remember with some ambiguity, the first time she ever laid eyes on a Jedi.  She had been a child on Nar Shaddaa, recently sold to some Hutt or other who liked to display his exotic holdings on his pleasure barge.  Vette’s assigned task had been a simple one, snatch whatever valuable things she could from any of the Hutt’s wealthy party guests without getting caught.  The better she did, the more she was given to eat that night. It was a job a tiny, unassuming child was good at, and one in which she excelled. Then had come the night she’d tried to swipe a shiny looking cylinder from this old guy in a hood.

In Vette’s defense, it hadn’t been a good night and she had thought the thing was some kind of container for credit chips.  But she’d recognized the ancient weapon for what it was the moment she held it in her hands. Heavy and rough enough to rub untrained hands raw and followed in close succession by a presence so intense it made her knees weak.  Her Hutt master was exceptionally proud of the single, stolen lightsaber he held in his collection.

The Jedi had been kind enough.  He didn’t strike her for trying to steal from him, and even traded a few spare rations for the weapon he had every right to take back with interest.  He’d looked down on her and smiled a sad, Jedi smile as he looked at her slave collar. A wash of peace had brushed over her, a gift she supposed.

Then the Jedi had left.

As an adult, Vette had learned that for the most part, Sith were uncomplicated in their cruelty.  They didn’t lash out at weaker beings like her because they had some complicated sense of morality that demanded it.  Death and destruction was just what they did. Either because they took perverse pleasure in it, or because they didn’t really have any other way of interacting with the world.

Sith bad.  It was a pretty simple truth to understand, and it made hating them wonderfully straightforward.  Or at least, that was the case with _most_ Sith.  Vette considered it just another bad hand dealt to her in a slew of bad hands life -or the Force, whatever you wanted to call it- had dished out, that she landed in the hands of what was probably the only complicated Sith in existence.

“Are these the fruits you were talking about?”  Eden didn’t look back at her as he held up an oblong red fruit with green spots over his shoulder for Vette to see.  The Pureblood continued to pour over the full array of fruits in the stall before them, uncaring of the poor Evocii clerk shaking in his boots.

Vette covered her giggle at the strange and mundane sight of a Sith looking over a food stall like it was a collection of ancient texts with a cough and took the fruit from her lord’s hand.  “No, my lord.” She stepped up beside him to return the fruit to its place, pretending not to notice the offended look Lord Maledict shot her at the term of address. “I’m pretty sure those are only edible to Hutts.”

The Sith made a disgusted sound and took an abrupt step back.  “Why in the Emperor’s name would anyone be selling it then?” The Evocii clerk had the misfortune of being the target of this outburst but Vette wasn’t too worried.  She was beginning to be able to tell the difference between her Sith’s true anger, and what was just his poor temperament.

“Forget it, the good stuff’s this way, grumpy.”  She hooked her hand around the crook of Eden’s sword arm and tugged, sparing the poor alien an apologetic smile as she passed.

When they were some distance away, Maledict huffed.  “When I offered everyone a reward to celebrate my appointment to Lord of the Sith, I was expecting something like a new blaster.  Not,” he made a vague gesture to the surrounding streets, “ _this._ ”

Vette rolled her eyes and skipped ahead.  “Hey come on, you promised anything I wanted.  And besides, Darth Fatso basically told us to take a vacation.”

“One he probably intended for me to spend with my new apprentice,” Eden pointed out.  

Vette would squirm at the normal implications of that, but knowing that the Alderaanian girl was spending _her_ vacation being lectured to by Quinn on all things Imperial helped squash the instinct.  Eden had already promised Jaesa a trip to Dromund Kaas to forge a new lightsaber after they got back anyway so, until then his attention squarely belonged to Vette.

“We both know I’m WAY more fun than a doting little padawan.”  Vette slapped on her cheekiest grin, only to have it falter at the pure look of -there was no other word for it- fond, that greeted her.  

Soft gold eyes met hers without contempt.  “Of that,” said Eden. “I have no doubt.”

Vette spent the next several hours _refusing_ to examine what exactly had been going through her Sith’s head when he said that.  Sith bad. Sith very, _very_ bad.   They didn’t look at her like she was a person, and they didn’t indulge her love of Nar Shaddaa street markets to look for her favorite foods.

Bone spurs did not look handsome cresting his jaw when he smiled, dammit!

It was made much easier for her to put confusing thoughts of her Sith out of Vette’s mind when she at last had a pile of her favorite assortment of fruits and pastries strewn out on her lap.  Lord Maledict had relegated himself to a spot a foot or two down the bench they’d claimed and had his own pick of the bunch in his claw-tipped hands. She didn’t try to hide her snigger at the surprised but appreciative noise he made when he took a bite of the pink fruit.  The look of shock and awe was well worth the dirty look he sent her in retaliation.

“It’s okay to admit you like it, you know,” she chided him.

Eden swallowed the last of the fruit, licking its clear juice from his fingers without breaking eye contact.  “I never said I didn’t.” He plucked Vette’s glass of half-finished T’ssolok from her hands and took a large gulp before handing it back.  

He looked like he wanted to say something else as well, but the edge of wry humor in the angle of the Sith’s eyebrow stalk shifted, and Eden’s face froze in a mask of anger.

Vette stilled in her seat.  “Um, boss?” She set her drink down and edged her dominant hand to one of her blasters.  She needn’t have been subtle though, the Sith’s attention was directed elsewhere.

Lip curled up in a sneer, Eden turned away from Vette, still seated on the bench, but only just.  “Jedi.”

“What?”  The edge of panic starting to take hold, Vette followed her lord’s line of sight to the brown-robed human watching them from across the garden they’d chosen to eat beside.  The human was old, with wrinkled skin hugging the corners of his mouth and eyes and hair bleached white, as happened to humans with age. But Eden must have sensed power Vette could not perceive, as he jumped to his feet the moment the Jedi took a step in their direction.

“Stay behind me.”  Eden’s lightsaber was in his hand, though he didn’t ignite it or go for the immediate, leaping attack that he would have normally.  That more than anything, made Vette nervous, and get to her feet without any further prompting. She put the bench between her and the Sith and flicked her attention between the two Force users.

The Jedi was as calm as one might expect, giving no signs of recognizing that it was a Sith he was approaching, while Lord Maledict on the other hand, was growing more and more agitated.  Vette could see his shoulders trembling from beneath his black armor.

“Boss, are you okay?”

“ _Quiet_.”  

The command was so sharp and cutting, tinged she was sure with the Force, that Vette’s mouth snapped closed and she felt a needle of hurt pierce her skin.  But she brushed it aside for the time being as the Jedi got within striking range of Eden and came to a stop. The Jedi pulled the hood down from his robes, giving them a clear view of his face.  To Vette, he looked unremarkable, like any other human. But for some reason, Eden’s breath caught in a hiss.

“I thought I recognized a familiar presence.”  The Jedi smiled, serene as he clasped his hands before him.  Vette tilted her head a little. Familiar? Humans might all look vaguely similar in her eyes, but she was almost certain the old Jedi before them was not Master Yonloch.  And she wasn’t sure who else would approach a Lord of the Sith with such confidence.

Eden’s lightsaber ignited with a snap- _hiss,_ and the brilliant-yellow blade slid free.  The Jedi’s eyes drifted the blade, one eyebrow arching as he took in its coloring.  Vette herself, already familiar with Eden’s new lightsaber crystal, focused instead on Eden’s face, which was contorted in what could only be fear.  But… but that made no sense.

Eden had defeated Master Yonloch.  Eden had defeated Noman Karr! And both times he’d displayed nothing but arrogant confidence approaching and during both battles.  Vette couldn’t understand why he was now all but trembling before this no name Jedi.

The Jedi lifted his eyes from Eden’s lightsaber to briefly glance over Vette and then settle on Lord Maledict.  “It’s been many years, child.”

Eden snarled, and Vette flinched as the rage around the Pureblood lashed out in all directions.  “ _You._ ”

“So, you recognize me.”  The Jedi’s head tipped in a brief bow.  “I must say I’m surprised.”

“How could I forget, _child stealer._ ”

The words were spat with such hatred and contempt that it made Vette’s knees weak.  Child stealer. She’d heard the name be put to the Jedi by Sith and other groups who took issue with their method of recruitment.  But she’d never heard Eden refer to them as such.

The Jedi bowed his head and sighed.  “As I feared, so you have let hatred and darkness consume you.”  Vette didn’t notice any kind of movement, but from one instant to the next the human had a battered looking cylinder in his palm.  Another lightsaber. “The Dark Side clings to you like a foul stench. Cold and dead.”

Eden gave no visible reaction to the comment, he was probably used to Jedi remarking on whatever aura he must put out to other Force users.  But for herself, Vette couldn’t help the narrowing of her eyes or the way her body edged closer to the Sith’s. A welcome heat bloomed from Lord Maledict’s back and wrapped around her with invisible arms.  Cold her blue, alien behind. If anything, Eden was like a fire that could never be smothered. It was the Jedi who felt, to her, like something less than living.

Lord Maledict reached back one hand and carefully edged Vette back and away.  Then, his shoulders rolled forward and he transitioned with smooth efficiency into what she recognized as his ready stance.  Eden muttered something in a language she couldn’t understand before switching to Basic. “It ends here.”

The Jedi sighed, shrugging the heavy brown robes from his shoulders and igniting his lightsaber.  The fizzling green blade cast an eerie light across the human’s pale face, and Vette shuddered. The Jedi said, looking as distraught as an emotionless Jedi could look distraught, “She would be so disappointed if she could see you now.”

The comment snapped Eden’s control and he lashed out with a furious overhand strike.  The Jedi parried easily, but Vette saw what was coming next and had the wherewithal to clamber up onto a nearby bench before Eden flipped his grip on his saber and brought it slamming to the ground.  The surface of the durasteel platform beneath them cracked, sending shockwaves that stunned the Jedi and left him frozen. Eden’s lips curled in a fierce grin and he charged, swinging to sever the Jedi’s weapon hand but missed when the human recovered in time to dodge.  

The aged human flourished and retreated enough to put some space between himself and the Pureblood, sparing a glance to Vette before starting to circle Eden like a stalking Manka cat.  Vette had her hand on her blaster but didn’t raise it to aim. As much as she had chosen to overlook the many Jedi bodies Eden had left in his wake, she’d never really had to help him do it before.  She’d never actually attacked a member of the order many alien species in Sith space looked up to as the saviors who rescued them in their dreams.

Eden and the Jedi clashed again, this time trading several blows before Eden took a deep breath and roared.  The Force-backed bellow sent the Jedi skidding back several steps, but not before the human raised an arm and made some sort of gesture that had Lord Maledict gasping like he’d been punched in the gut.  

“Eden!” she couldn’t help her scream as her Sith went down to one knee and barely lifted his lightsaber in time to block as the Jedi went on the offensive.  The human cast her a wary look and maneuvered himself between her and her lord.

“Stay out of this young one,” he warned her.  Eden glared, but she wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been put at a disadvantage or because the Jedi had addressed her.  “You’ll be safe soon.” An indignant rage flashed through Vette, but she didn’t have the time to examine it too closely before she saw Eden fighting to his feet.

Eden went into a series of blows, too fast and too numerous for the Jedi to defend against.  Vette squealed behind clenched teeth as he scored several glancing blows against the human’s arms and torso.  One more strike and the old man lost grip of his lightsaber, sending the deactivated cylinder clattering across the ground until it rolled over the edge of the platform and disappeared.

Vette sighed in relief and steeled her nerves for what would be the final blow.  She was used to it to some degree. The murder, the death and destruction. She served a lord of the Sith.  Sith bad. Sith very bad. It came with the territory, and she was still quite certain that she could do worse than this particular agent of Darkness.

Eden stalked up to the shell-shocked Jedi.  To Vette’s surprise he didn’t look smug, or even self-satisfied as he went to claim his victory.  Lord Maledict’s jaw was set in grim determination and his eyes smouldered that sick yellow Vette had come to associate with his worst days.  She’d never missed so much their usual color of burning dawn.

He muttered something to the Jedi, again in the language she didn’t know.  She wondered if maybe it was the mother tongue of the Pureblood Sith. Eden brandished his lightsaber in an executioner’s stance.  “For Ijilne.”

As he swung, the Jedi -who up until that point had been kneeling with a look of calm resignation on his face- surprised them all by jumping to his feet, ducking the Sith’s swing and lunging in close to lay a hand across Eden’s brow.  Vette’s breath caught as she heard the Sith let out a wail unlike anything she heard before and go limp. Eden’s lightsaber dropped from his hand and in the next moment he was laid out on the ground at the Jedi’s feet. Unconscious and unprotected.

She didn’t realize she was screaming until something cool and heavy washed over her.  The Jedi’s presence she realized, trying to comfort her. She quieted down and sank to the ground, her eyes flitting between Eden and the Jedi.  “W-what,” she said, her voice quivering. “What did you do to him?”

The Jedi looked back to Eden and summoned the Sith’s lightsaber to his hand.  “Showed him something I was sure he would rather not recall. As you can see it proved effective in subduing him.”  He turned back to Vette. “I forgive the violent display, but you’re safe now.” A hand was held out to her, and Vette couldn’t believe what was happening.  “I will call my fellow Jedi to take him into custody and he will be held accountable for his crimes,” he said, as if to reassure her. “Come with me, I will take you to Republic space.  You will be safe there.”

“Really?”

He nodded.  “I promise you.  I can free you from him.”

Vette shook her head in disbelief.  If this had happened on Korriban, on Drommund Kaas, or even Balmorra she would have been be overjoyed.  It was everything she’d dreamed of from the moment that Jedi all those years ago had smiled at her and given her food.  To be saved. Liberated. To have the collar removed from her neck and be given a home where she could feel safe.

Her eyes drifted to Eden.  His face was twisted in pain and something that looked distressingly like fear.  The Jedi followed her gaze and frowned. “I should put binders on him before he has a chance to wake.”  He turned his back on Vette. “I’ll contact my padawan, just let me-”

The human was dead before his body hit the ground.  Vette gasped as the smoking blaster shook in her grasp and she dropped it like a hot engine coil.  Unable to comprehend what it was she had just done, she scrambled to her feet, shoving the dead Jedi away and snatching Eden’s lightsaber up before collapsing at his side.

The Sith didn’t move, even as she clipped the weapon back to his belt and began to shake his shoulders.  “Eden. Eden!” She sniffled and beat his breastplate with her small blue fist. “Wake up, you jerk! Don’t you dare leave me here alone!  Not after what I just did for you!” She was furious, and terrified, and unspeakably sad and before she knew it she was crying into his armored chest.  They needed to move. As much as Nar Shaddaa could be a wellspring of chaos, eventually someone could come stumbling past. They needed to get deeper into Sith territory and comm the others on the _Fury_.  Vette gave herself another minute to compose herself, feeling the steady rise and fall of her Sith’s chest, before forcing herself onto her feet and looping her arms around the Pureblood’s torso.

It took time and a lot of fumbling, but she managed to drag Lord Maledict out of the open and into what looked like an abandoned med station before scrambling around the Sith’s armor until she found his comlink.  

“Quinn?  Quinn, you there?”

The miniature blue hologram of the human officer appeared before her.   _“Vette?  What are you doing with Lord Maledict’s comlink?  Return it immediately.”_

Vette peeked over her shoulder where she had laid Eden out on one of the med benches and shook her head.  “We need help,” she said. “There was a Jedi and he did something to Eden. Please, you have to come help.”

Quinn sucked in a breath and snapped orders to someone Vette couldn’t see.  Presumably Jaesa. Then he focused back on her. _“We will be there shortly.  Keep this comlink online and keep our lord safe.”_ Vette nodded.  Quinn must have taken that as enough because he returned the gesture and blinked out of view.  

Suddenly exhausted, Vette sighed and set the comlink on the ground before dropping down to lean against the side of the bench where Eden was resting.  Without thinking, she reached up and pulled one of Eden’s arms down beside her so she could grasp his hand. Her fingers curled around the red, calloused palm and she squeezed.

“I guess this means I’m officially one of the bad guys,” she muttered to no one in particular.  Or perhaps just to herself. She closed her eyes and tried to decide if what she felt in that moment was relief or regret.

The hand between hers squeezed back, and Vette’s eyes flew open with a small gasp.  She tightened her grip unconsciously, sure that Eden was awake and about to snatch his limb back.  But to her surprise he didn’t let go, just continued to hold her steadily, and his thumb even started to move in soothing strokes against the back of her hand.  

Maybe he was still asleep, she told herself.  

“Thank you,” Eden’s deep rumble rolled over her like a warm puff of air.

Or, maybe not.  Vette’s lips curled in a smile and she brought her Sith’s hand up to brush her lips against it.  “Don’t mention it.”

They stayed like that until Eden sensed the approach of his ship’s captain and apprentice and gently slipped his hand free of Vette’s grip.  The Sith greeted the remainder of his crew and prepared to depart without another word or even a look in Vette’s direction.

Days passed as Quinn made it his personal mission to ensure they put as much space as possible between themselves and Nar Shaddaa.

Like she’d asked, Eden didn’t mention the incident again.  But that didn’t stop her hands from feeling cold without his.  Didn’t keep her lips from tingling at the thought of how they’d felt against his hard, Sith skin.  And it certainly didn’t stop the nightmares of seeing Eden fall under that Jedi’s hand from waking her in the middle of every sleep cycle.

Eventually, she had enough and left her bunk near the engine room to take up a spot in the bridge, where she could watch the swirling vortex of hyperspace until it lulled her back to sleep.  Much to her surprise, Eden was there too, sitting bent with his elbows resting on his knees, and a forgotten datapad dangling from his fingers as he stared sightless into the blue void. He didn’t acknowledge her arrival and she didn’t say anything to him.  Just took a seat in the chair to his right and curled up with her legs tucked against her chest. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep that night and she had to wonder if Sith had nightmares too.

A shift in her periphery caused Vette to glance Eden’s way and see that he had moved so that he was no longer leaning forward, but resting against the back of the pilot’s chair.  His right hand was dangling off the edge of the arm, palm open. Vette eyed it for a moment before wordlessly slipping her hand in his. A warm spot in her chest bloomed as he gripped her back.

“She was my sister,” he said suddenly.

Vette tightened the grip she had on his hand and politely ignored the way it trembled.  Wetness spilled over her cheeks. “Oh.”

They said nothing more after that.  Simply spending the remainder of the night cycle sitting side by side, hands tangled together and watching the stars pass them by.


	6. Voss- Reason to Believe

"And you're sure the two of you are okay?"

The blue-tinted hologram of Jaesa clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. _'We're fine, Vette. The vision was, enlightening.  I’ve never shared such an intimate experience with any of my previous masters._ "

Unbeknownst to the other passengers who had been left on the _Fury_ , the tips of Vette's lekku twitched. "Right. Well, just get here as soon as possible so we can get off this rock."

Again, holo-Jaesa bowed her head and the image flickered and went dead. Vette sighed and dug her hands into her hips. She could feel Broonmark's concerned gaze on her back as well as Quinn's stiff curiosity, but ignored them. She needed to calm down. They were fine. Jaesa said he was fine. She just needed to learn to ignore the cold tingles traveling up and down her spine.

In the end, Vette settled for camping out in the engine room with a bottle of Corellian whiskey and a couple of disassembled blasters for her to clean. She should be glad really, that Eden had opted for taking his new apprentice with him on this particular mission. As used to the whole Sith Lord lifestyle as she'd become in the company of the newly christened Emperor's Wrath -and wasn't that just the snazziest new title- there were some things she didn't think she'd ever get accustomed to. Weird visions and that invisible line Force-users liked to draw between Light and Dark were two of them, and Voss had both of those in spades.

But then Jaesa had called with the news that she and Eden had undergone some sort of Mystic trials and received a vision of the future—together. How had she described it? Intimate, and enlightening?

Vette took another full gulp from her bottle. How was she supposed to take that? Sure Jaesa was such a sheltered little ex-padawan her naivete was almost cute, but still. Eden didn't like her, did he?

"Everything alright, little miss?" Pierce stuck his head through the entrance to the engine room and took in Vette's pathetic little corner with a small frown. Vette smiled up at him and offered her half-empty bottle. The ginger-haired Lieutenant sniffed it and took a swig. "Nice," he said as he handed it back.

He plopped himself down across from her with a small grunt. "So, you gonna tell me what's eating yah?"

Vette puckered her lips and turned her focus on cleaning each part of her blasters until they shined. When Pierce didn't get up and leave, she finally relented a bit. "Nothing's bothering me."

"Right, and Quinn doesn't have a pole the size of a vibroblade up his arse. Is it Jaesa?"

Dropping the pretense of weapon maintenance, Vette groaned and looked up. "It's not that I feel threatened, okay? Let's just get that straight." She might be half Pierce's size, but she'd blow a hole through him if he said otherwise.

"Didn't think so. Even a blind gizka could see that Lord Maledict adores you."

Heat bloomed across Vette's cheeks. But it was only half caused by her embarrassment. "I know, it's just—he takes her everywhere!" Vette threw her arms out wide and let herself fall back so that she lay sprawled on the grated floor. "Used to be I was the one watching his back, and I get that she's his apprentice and all that, but still." Vette turned her head so her cheek was pressed against the cool metal of the floor and stared hard at the grey wall.

"Ah, so you _are_ jealous!" Booming laughter rang against the walls of the ship and Vette chucked the barrel of her main hand blaster at him, earning a satisfying grunt as it struck home. "Look, don't be, it's a Sith thing. You'll get used to it."

That got Vette to shoot upright again and she glared at Pierce hard. "Excuse me? So what, it's normal for all Sith to get _intimate and enlightened_ with their masters? That automatically makes it okay?"

An unbidden image of Eden and Darth Fatty came to mind and Vette had to physically shake herself to get rid of it. "Oh stars," she moaned. "I think I need to sonic scrub my brain."

Nursing the growing lump on his forehead, Pierce chuckled again. "Nah, nah, that's not what I mean. Sith, the good ones anyway -and Lord Maledict is definitely one of the good ones- tend to live in their apprentice's pockets and vice versa."

"That's not really comforting, Pierce."

"You're not gettin’ it." Pierce scratched at the side of his beard, seemingly frustrated with his own inability to explain. "Sith society is pretty cut throat, yeah?"

Vette nodded.

"Well, because of that Sith Lords tend to go through quite a few apprentices before they get one that sticks. Most don't bother to properly groom ‘em for survival. Usually—and only usually mind, I don't mean in this case—it's cause the apprentice is giving them a little something on the side."  He made a vague gesture with his hands and Vette stared back at him stone-faced.

"I still don't see what you're getting at buddy."

This time, Pierce leaned forward and put a hand on Vette' shoulder. "I mean that he's just trying to do right by her. Training her, taking her with him on missions instead of just shipping her out blind, teaching her how to act the part of a real Sith. He's trying to do for her what _her_ old Master, and what Darth Baras never did for him."

Vette thought back to that awful day on Quesh. To the sight of a shell-shocked and panicked Jaesa half dragging Eden back on board. The blind rage and maddened fury that had the Sith Pureblood lashing out at everyone and everything around him regardless of his severe injuries. She could see his eyes turn pale yellow as he screamed his outrage and betrayal. Abandoned by his master. "I…think I get it."

Pierce nodded, chest pumped with pride. "Good. Just remember it don't mean he doesn't love you. Cause he _definitely_ does." With that, the Imperial snatched up the forgotten bottle of Corellian whiskey and made a hasty exit for the common area of the ship, leaving Vette to consider in private.

And consider she did. She got that Eden was trying to be the best Master he could. To prove both Baras and Noman Karr wrong about him. But still, there were things Vette was very aware Force-users could only share with another Force-user. The kind of bond that she would never be able to reciprocate.

What if…what if one day Eden realized that he'd rather be with someone who could keep pace with him better than she could? Or if the fact that she was a Twi'lek finally sunk in? So many ifs. Her entire life was a giant question mark. A wonderful, thrilling, passionate question mark, but still. Never for a second did Vette forget that everything she had was at the mercy of Eden Maledict's feelings for her. And it would stay that way as long as they flew under the Empire's banner.

She loved him, and he loved her, but Vette wasn't sure how much longer she could live with an uncertain future.

Vette got to her feet and made for the doors, resolved to leave her worries behind for the time being, when a strange light began to shine behind her. Panicked that something had happened to the ship's engine, Vette spun on her heel, only to come face to face with a glowing humanoid she had a sinking suspicion was one of the Voss.

“Fear not, child.”  The Voss took a step towards her.

“Oh stars, no.”  Vette drew her blaster and trained it on the intruder.  “Who’re you and what do you want?” If this was another attack, Vette wasn’t willing to be beaten and laid out like a trophy just to get at Eden.  Not again.

And if the creep thought he could pull it off, Vette had a nice collection of bloodied implants tucked away in her and Eden’s quarters as a daily reminder of what would happen if he tried.  

The Voss stilled.  “Fear not,” he said again.  “I am a Voss Mystic, and I have come here to repay my debt.”

“Debt?”  Vette didn’t lower her blaster, but she did gesture for him to continue.  “What debt?

“I have given warning to one half of the whole.  Now I come to provide a gift to the other.” He inclined his head in Vette’s direction.

“A gift?”

“A Mystic sees visions.  One such of my visions, concerns you.”

A vision?  Like what Eden and Jaesa had experienced?  “Is this about Eden- I mean, about the Lord Wrath?”

Again the Mystic nodded.  “The Outsider has done much for Voss, we will do what we must to repay in kind.

“Okay then,” Vette holstered her blaster and crossed her arms.  “What did you see?”  

A shake of the head.  “The vision is not one that can be spoken, it must be seen.  Lived.” The Mystic stepped close and Vette tensed. A sensation she couldn’t quite put into words cloaked itself around her and she shivered at the unfamiliar aura.  She might be Force-blind, but she knew Eden, and to a lesser extent she was beginning to know Jaesa.  

Eden was warm, like a blanket of molten fury tamped down just enough that Vette could feel its comfort when he was near, and knew that everyone around her only saw the supernova of rage.  Jaesa in contrast, felt fluid and passive. Like a flowing stream with a calm surface, but the potential of a fierce undercurrent running beneath.

The Voss was unlike either of those things.  Alien and prickling, not unlike an insect dancing along her skin.  She shivered against it.

“Endure it.”  The Mystic said before reaching forward and touching Vette’s brow.  The touch whited out her vision, and the last thing she could feel was her legs giving out beneath her before everything went dark.

 

_Vette was herself and… not herself.  Eden stood before her, the Pureblood’s face smoothed out in an uncommon look of shock and awe.  She could not recognize their surroundings, but it all felt strange and far off. For a reason she could not comprehend, she felt as though she were seeing something a long time away._

_Vette swayed on her feet and cast her eyes down and away.  Doubt festered in her mind. A previous confidence flared by passion was being smothered by an overwhelming uncertainty.  Her voice, when she spoke, was nervous._

_“Just that… if you’ve got something to say I’d make it quick or you’re going to get interrupted.”_

_She felt that this Vette was unsure of Eden’s response.  A gaping hole was bleeding in her heart that she did not know the source of._

_The vision covered everything in gold, but Vette knew the finger that drew her head up would be red.  Eden brought his hand away from her face and laid it flat against his chest. He bowed his head._

_“I’ve crossed the span of stars and time for this momen~”_

_She could not bear the shamed but hopeful echo in his voice.  Before he could finish, Vette threw her arms around the Sith’s shoulders and pulled him close, crashing their lips together in a way that felt too new, too fresh for the experience she knew they had._

_Eden held her back, his large hands clasped around her shoulder and hip so hard it stung but she didn’t care.  His very essence crashed about her, cloaking her in his power and reacquainting itself with her soul. For what seemed like the first time in far too long, Vette felt at home._

_In the end, they were forced to part for air, but Vette drew her hands up to Eden’s face, tracing the curve of the bone spurs on his jaw to cup his cheeks while he pressed his forehead into hers.  After a moment of hesitation, his hands settled around her hips._

_“Forgive me,” he said.  Eyelids closing over warm, sunset eyes in a way that spoke of defeat._

_Vette shook her head and pressed a kiss against his cheek, relishing in the tickle of his red hair brushing her smooth, Twi’lek skin.  “Idiot,” she said. “You came back.”_

_Moving too quick for Vette to react, the Sith lunged forward and drew her into a deep embrace, wrapping her full in his arms and dropping his head against her shoulder.  “Always. Not even the Void itself could keep me from you forever.”_

_Her eyes stung and the back of Vette’s throat tickled.  “You mean that?”_

_Eden drew back, though his hand traced down her arm to land with their fingers entwined.  “I swear it.” His eyes, when he met hers, were serious. “I love you, Vette.”_

_Her laugh was choked with tears.  “I know, jerk.” She tightened the grip of their hands.  “I love you too.”_

 

The vision ended.

“Vette.  Vette!”  

She struck out blindly, slapping away the arms that shook her by the shoulders and tried to rouse her from her dream.  “Go away.” She didn’t want to wake up. That scene in her mind, the Eden that held her, kissed her, it was everything she could ever want.  “Want to sleep.” Vette turned away from the voice and curled into herself, eyes clamped shut.

A low chuckle echoed against her auditory cones.  “Don’t you think you’ve slept long enough?”

Damn him, but she could never ignore that voice.  Fighting the sting that threatened to overflow from her eyes, Vette lifted herself up and turned to see who had gathered around her in the now cramped engine room.

To her great annoyance, it was the studious apprentice herself, Jaesa, who had one hand wrapped loose against one of Vette’s wrists and the other held above her, faintly aglow.  “Vette, are you alright?” she asked.

She pulled her hand away and started to climb to her feet.  “Fine, never better, don’t freak out or anything.”  

Jaesa looked surprised for a moment then followed her up.  Her glowing hand was still raised and she began to reach out to her again.  “But, you-” Vette could feel something pressing against her mind. Some kind of intrusion, like Tatooine, and shivered.

A red hand clamped down hard on Jaesa’s wrist.  “Enough, Jaesa.”

Very confused, Vette tried to forget the way her heart was swelling at the sight of Eden and focus on the strange, apprehensive look Jaesa was throwing around.  “But Master. What the Voss said…”

Eden stepped fully between them and Vette found herself stepping instinctively into his protective shadow.  He said, “Is my concern and will be dealt with in time. For now, let it rest.”

Jaesa bowed her head.  “Yes, Master.” With that she left the room, exiting into the common area where Pierce and Quinn were looking in through the open doorway.  Eden paid them no mind and, with the barest wave of his hand shut the doors and engaged the locking mechanism, leaving them alone.

Vette stared up at the Sith, suddenly very unsure of what to do or say.  “Y-you’re back.”

Eden said nothing for several moments only to then lift a hand to brush against her cheek.  “When I leave you on this ship it is with the expectation that you will be safe. Must I accompany you always to achieve that end?”

Vette’s eye twitched and without thinking she knocked Lord Maledict’s hand away and punched him in the shoulder.  “Jerk! It wasn’t my fault some glowy Voss guy decided to up and knock me out with weird vision powers!”

She made to strike him again, but this time the Pureblood caught her wrist and held her back, an amused tilt to his lips.  “You saw a vision then?”

She nodded.

“What of?”

“I’m not sure.”  The future, maybe?  A single moment that promised a wonderful, perfect future.

Eden’s arms shifted up and then suddenly Vette was being pulled into a stiff, but warm, one-armed hug.  “Well whatever it was, I’m glad,” he said. His hand started rubbing the spot between her shoulder blades with soothing strokes that politely avoided her swaying lekku.  “I was sensing uncertainty in you before today. And I didn’t ask, because I could tell it was about me.”

Vette considered that for a moment.  Was that… an admission of fear?

“But when we returned and you were unconscious, I felt that uncertainty fade away.  Did the Voss show you something you needed to see?”

Vette reached up and returned Eden’s embrace in full.  She nodded against the cool chestplate of his armor. “Yes.”  Because, he had come back. Across stars, across time, he’d said.  To come back to her. And he’d promised he always would.

Lips brushed the center of her brow.  “Then,” Eden muttered against her skin.  “That’s all I need to hear.”


End file.
